


Your Touch

by MysticDodo



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Malec, Malec Angst, Malec Smut, Pain, Sex, Sex Magic, magic use during sex, sneaking out at night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 14:25:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5931682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticDodo/pseuds/MysticDodo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec is falling in love. Magnus feels like he's being used.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Touch

**Author's Note:**

> I'll sink with this ship! And my other ships too, because I am trash.

Alec hated himself. 

Actually, hate was not a strong enough word to describe the amount of deep seated loathing that made his stomach eat itself and his sleep full of restlessness. Yet as he traced the familiar steps of sneaking out of his room of the Institute and out on the cold streets of New York, he couldn’t say that he was entirely restless due to self hatred only. 

He let himself into the familiar building silently, fingers trembling. 

He tiptoed up the stairs and towards a source of light, heart beginning to hammer in his chest and his blood beginning to boil. 

He slid up behind Magnus’s bent frame and his cold hands trailed up the arch of the strong back towards the soft hair at the nape of the Warlock’s neck. 

Magnus set down the pen he was using and as the man turned to look up at Alec’s face, he looked both happy and sad. Magnus didn’t say anything as he linked his fingers into the loops of Alec’s belt and pulled him towards his waiting lips. It took less than a minute of hesitant kissing before Alec was tearing at Magnus’s clothes, uncaring that Magnus’s face was rough with stubble, that his breath was less than fresh and that his skin felt gritty underneath Alec’s touch. 

Alec felt tears spring into his eyes when Magnus prepared him and he let out something akin to a gasp - or was it more of a sob - when his lover slid home. The pain from the bites on his neck weren’t enough and Alec growled, “harder, faster, don’t stop” with increasing frequency and loudness as the minutes sped by. Magnus’s back was slick with sweat and the warlock was panting harshly into Alec’s ear, accepting the sting of blunt nails on his skin and the harsh slaps on the globes of his ass. His own nails, bitten to stubs and the polish chipped, gripped at Alec’s damp hair and he tugged mindlessly when Alec arched into his body. 

His stamina rune burned on his skin when he pushed Magnus on his back and breached him again. Alec’s hands fell to the mattress beside Magnus’s head, acting as a stabiliser as he ground himself down, the deeper angle making his limbs quiver with a cocktail of pleasure and discomfort. Now Magnus’s hands were scrabbling at Alec’s shoulders and scratching their way down to the sharp hips of his lover, watching as salty tears and dews of sweat slid down Alec’s flushed face.

The warlock caught his lower lip between his teeth and he bit hard, the coppery taste of blood crawling over his tongue as he focused on his magic. Blue sparkles lit under his fingertips and he bit back his own sob as he grasped Alec’s leaking member between the warmth of his tingling hands. Alec threw his head back as he sat up, mouth open in an “O”, incoherent sounds spilling from him as Magnus tugged roughly, twisting his wrist at Alec’s swollen tip. The blue light illuminated the fading bruises on Alec’s hips and around Magnus’s wrist and the wrongness of the situation, the dirtiness of how right it felt, made Magnus let out a pulse of more magic. 

Alec’s reaction was instantaneous, hot spurts of seed bursting from his erection as he cried out. His runed chest heaved as Magnus took advantage of Alec’s orgasm, jabbing into his body until his own swift release came and he clung at Alec as his world shook and crumbled. 

It wasn’t long before Magnus slowly slipped out of bed, his back a canvas of uneven red lines. He donned a silk gown and padded quietly out of his bedroom. Alec couldn’t watch him leave and kept his gaze trained on the wall, heart still hammering in his chest and his eyes feeling irritated with tears that hadn’t yet been shed. When he did leave the warmth of the covers, he could see the graceful curve of Magnus’s back as he hunched over his table and the paper again, a few candles flickering as their wicks were burning to the end of their life. 

Alec didn’t say goodbye. He slipped out as quietly as he arrived, wishing that the ache in his body was due to the less than gentle love making and not due to the emptiness of hatred. He thought it was supposed to be easier; admitting his sexuality, a part of himself that he had been trying to hide and deny for so long. He thought it was supposed to feel like a weight was lifted from his shoulders but with each day he felt like he was getting closer and closer to drowning. Magnus was the only thing, the only person, who could help him breath again whilst simultaneously having Alec feel like he was a more worse version of himself before his selective coming out… 

Alec ducked into his bedroom just as the sun was rising. He avoided the mirror and his messed up hair, the fading marks of bites on his neck. Out of sight, out of mind… But Magnus never was. And Alec hated that he felt like he was using the warlock. Hated that he couldn’t stay away. Hated how he first imagined it being Jace’s lithe body under his. Hated that the image of his parabatai was now being replaced by the warlock with yellow cat eyes and a sad, knowing smile. 

He hated himself and already missed Magnus’s warm body.


End file.
